Just a Thursday Night 6.11.2015

Perhaps inspired by some funny and raw FB posts and other blogs….this post is just another day in the life.     My life.    Today's life.   June 11th, 2015

It’s 7:33 pm.

 I just walked downstairs from putting my daughter to bed…and subsequently checking on her.   Checking on her because of the day we have endured.  A day that left me feeling like #momfail. 

WAIT.

She’s up.  I forgot to close the gate.  She’s standing here next to me…to get a drink, of course, from my giant water.   Yes, it’s a giant jug of water.  I don’t even have the energy to pour a glass of wine.   Yeah, that should offer a little foreshadowing into this blog post. 

She is next to me pouring my jug of water into her cup and back and forth, and OH!  Yep…she just spilled the water.  I am not really saying much:  “Well, go get a towel from the drawer.”  Now, she’s cleaning the table, getting more towels??  Oh, nevermind.  She’s using my cloth dinner napkins.  I calmly tell her to put them in the laundry room and go to bed (perhaps one of the 7 calm sentences I have said all day).  She replies with, “You need to go get ready for me (turn on the music, cover her, pet her).  I tell her no.  She tells me, “My wanna read a book.”  I can’t say no to this, especially since we just came from the library, and she has 6 new books.  PAUSE.  (this is the MIDDLE)

BACK TO BED.

Prior to 7:33 was a combination of a broken recording (my voice) and an unfocused shaky camera lens(her body).  It was a day filled with sweet hugs, a no-tantrum ponytail, a snuggle after her nap…and other "moments."

HOLD ON.

OH….here we go.  She is UP again.  8:14.  (no, she will not sleep a minute past 6 no matter how late she stays up). 

I’M BACK.

This new “get up” routine started about 3 months ago or so….along with a myriad of “problems.”  Problems that began at school with a transition change.    

Today…I lost my cool.  I snapped at her.  I used the wrong tone.  There was a tap.  Today.   She cried.  Today.  I cried.  Today…I apologized over and over.  I held her over and over.   I wiped tear after tear.  #momfail

Today, she yelled, told me no.  She swatted at me and did the whole “I’ll laugh in mommy’s face because she is angry.”  She kicked.  She threw herself on the ground.  She told me, “not today” for every request I made.  #momfail

I tried all of my “tricks.”  Stay calm.  Ignore.  Don’t engage.  Praise.  Noticing.  Thumbs up.  Dinner out/trip to a new library (change of scenery).   NOTHING worked.   So, I kept snapping.   I even raised my voice a few times.  #momfail

When I walked away from her bedroom the first time tonight (before her encore performance descending down the stairs)…I was thinking about something I read recently.  We are having a lot of challenges with her current preschool classroom.  I read that one of the mistakes I make is that I react too quickly.  She needs to problem solve and to calm herself down some of the time.  I am so focused on all the things I keep hearing are “wrong” with her that I am hyperfocusing/overreacting.  #momfail

Instead of helping channel her spirit, I worry I am so pressured by the “wrongs” that I am squishing her too much.  Today was me reacting, me being angry because I feel like I am failing her, me winding up tight only to unravel in seconds.  #momfail 

Today was hard.  Really hard.  The words may not a rival Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day, but it was hard because I felt like I really let her down today as a mom that she can count on and learn from…Today was a day filled with …#momfail

(not a Pinterest mom fail/not a social media mom fail….a mom fail that I take on myself …she learns by watching me…watching ME) #momfail

Oh YEAH  :)…FINALLY SLEEPING

(**my shining reader in the MIDDLE…)

We read two books.  She is really embracing repeating lines, predicting rhymes, and she uses her finger to trace big bolded words.  She likes to use the pictures clues and the emotions drawn on the characters’ faces to talk about how the characters are feeling… and she was snuggled up on my lap the whole time.   That is what my gut and heart say to use as my “interventions,”

What she watched today was not acceptable.

Tomorrow I get to try again.  I pray in a few years that she doesn’t recall this day (her memory is wicked).  I will try again.  I will not let the pressure of a few people and their notions of whom my daughter “should” be alter what my gut and heart tell me.  It isn’t that today isn’t OK….it’s that today is ok with me-in my views And I am her champion advocate.  I am.  Tomorrow.  #momwin

My wish for all of you mommies out there…to know it will be ok. 

And for me, tonight:   a big bowl of ice cream and the RHONYC !!!

April … Spring is Here, Breaking Down the Icebergs! 4.22.2015

Finally Spring is here!   It is the time of year that people begin to take off their quilts of frost bite and reunite with the outside world.  For me, Spring is the time that I begin to clean out the closets and the cobwebs.  This Spring may bring a rainstorm of renewal for some, but it brings a blow torch to an iceberg for me.

Typically, for me in my career, after an event that I chair is over and complete, I begin the countdown to the end of the year, but that isn’t exactly the case this year.  This year, the countdown began somewhere around October.  I can’t say exactly what started it, as I know it was several things all wrapped into one. 

When I started this blog, I had just turned 40.  No one actually tells you that at some point, your body and mind turns 40.  I really don’t have many friends at all that are older than me…so I had no idea at all.  So, to all my 20 and 30 somethings:  enjoy your “sanity.”

But this year…things feel so different.  So if you can bear it, here are my ramblings for April.  And there are many, many rambles…

1.  Let’s start with my daughter.  She is 3 years and 4 months old.  Since before she was born, she was exposed to music.  I had these “belly buds.”   She could listen to my ipod on these speakers that attached to my growing belly.  I played this calm yoga music.  (She still loves this music on her Nano at night).  Yet, in the car…I played my music.  I like it loud.  I like it as it is.  So, she heard it all:  she heard Elton John.  She heard Lionel Richie.  She heard Greg Laswell.  She heard the Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana.  She heard boy bands and hair bands.  She heard Drake and Journey, Michael Jackson, and Adele.  She heard Kenny Chesney and the Thievery Corporation.  She heard Weezer and Fleetwood Mac. 

I listen to everything.  She heard …well, she heard it all…Which means she heard my love of R &B and Hip Hop and Rap….and now, at this age, it cracks me up a little because she truly has an infinity for children’s music and for….R&B and Hip Hop and Rap.  When we are in the car, she has as definite opinion of what she likes…

so …here we go:  Maris’ favorite songs with mommy  (in no specific order)

Jhene Aiko:  The Worst

The Weeknd:  Earned it

SchoolBoy:  Studio

Tinashe:  2 On (the clean version)

Calvin Harris:  Titanium

Great Big World: Say Something

Schoolboy Q:   Studio

Katy Perry:  Dark Horse

Jeremih/YG:  Don’t Tell ‘Em

Tove Lo:  Habits

Bruno Mars:  Uptown Funk (Nana’s song)

**in addition, her new favorite words are:  “awesome,” “also,” “I NEED,” and “maybe,”  “actually”  oh…and “go buddy!” (I yell that in the car a lot…)….

2.  I have discovered a few things about myself (and I think many of you can identify with on some level of variety)

 —that I knew, but not in this intense and encompassing manner:  Gratitude has always been a huge piece of my life…but, as I grow into a newer sense of who I am, I am realizing that it is not only important in my life, but it is becoming …a deal-breaker.  After reading The Heart of the 5 Languages of Love by Gary Chapman, I can see that my love language is through gratitude and simple ways of showing I care. 

Chapman tells me to show that language in various ways to see if others will respond in kind.  He tells me that others may not speak that language, but I get confused.  Gratitude—a simple thank you—is not a language of love.  It is a simple norm of respect, professionally and personally.  I am beginning to realize that much like politics and religion:  a plain and simple “thank you” is seemingly too difficult to express (or is “taboo”) for some.  It’s not difficult.  It’s two words…THANK.YOU.  There is no parade needed, no long note, no email, no text needed.  Just the two simple words.  If this is offensive to you—or maybe doesn’t seem to make sense, well, I would like to apologize, but I’m not actually sorry for valuing the sharing a mutual respect. 

And with this, I must add:  this is not simply about not getting a thank you to ME…it is much more about watching others not being appreciated.  It is troublesome to me to see others’ efforts and kindness disrespected.  In fact, as I type this at this moment…watching others not shown gratitude pisses me off even more.  Seriously.

Which takes me to my next ramble…expectations.  I have always had high expectations for myself and for those around me, but lately I have noticed that I am feeling let down or perhaps, hurt, by those expectations that aren’t met.  Oh Mr.  Chapman, thank you for letting me know that I simply cannot expect things from others (with the exception of the aforementioned “thank you.”)  So, with that…I decided to just stop expecting and start doing.

Continuing on…I decided recently to “write my story.”  I wrote it in terms of academic and professional journeys.  I wanted to see who I really was … as an “academic” and as a “professional.”  The recurring thread was easy to identify.  Every time I got knocked down, I picked myself up again.  I went from a student in all gifted classes to a student who barely made it out of undergrad to a student who obtained a license to teach and a master degree with only 4 B’s.  I went from a retail employee to a social work environment to a teacher.  I have been on numerous committees and participated in various initiatives (if you are a teacher, you know these initiatives actually last about 2 years) and attempted many new ventures in my career as a teacher.

 In sharing this in a conversation with a colleague (whom is not a close friend)…she said she heard a risk-taker.  In all of my years since the 7^th grade, I have never seen myself as a risk taker (hell, even way before that).  Huh, who knew…I am a risk taker.  Me, a risk taker.  I kinda feel cool …yeah, that sounds weird, but damn!!  I am a risk taker.

She also said…relationships are important to me, trust is important to me…and I base my life around these pieces, combined with my overwhelming desire to support, encourage, and help people.  So going back to Gary Chapman…I can only be me, and if the pieces in my relationships that I choose to share aren’t there, then I don’t have to be there (and yes, I am fully aware, if I am not speaking the love language that others speak…they can drop me like a hot potato, too).

This …all of this …was and has been a huge process of learning for me.  I’m going to pause and give a shout out to 2 friends who have been tirelessly listening to me go on and on about trying to understand this.  You know who you are.  High fives in the hallway to you.     

3.  Lastly:  a collection:

1.    I have had more hairstyles in 10 years than I can count.  Short, long, medium, bangs, side swoop, slicked over, blonde, brownish, BLONDE, streaked.   I like that I will change it at any moment….RISK TAKER ;)

2.    It’s too bad about Pharell and Robin Thicke…It is still a total JAM.

3.    I recently learned two new slang terms:  truffle butter and thot.  I was also called one of those by a student…no comment.

4.    This is the hardest year I have encountered in 11 years, but I am still standing…still fighting.  Less than 40 to go.  I can do this.

5.    Red wine is fine.  Always.

6.    Texting can be therapy-

7.    Life at 43…isn’t what you think it might feel like

8.    In the middle of the hardest year ever: 

·      Tears over Bridge to Terabithia

·      Tears when a student finds out Charlotte (Charlotte’s Web) dies (she never knew)

·      Complete disbelief in the tales of Black History…and the engagement of the Show Way quilt and the chance to make one

·      The perfect balance of chaos and engaged learning

9.    The parenting thing…is so difficult…I had no idea that a simple concept like using a toilet would make me question everything I know about children, how they develop and grow, and … how I am as a parent (painful…#epicfail)

10. I love looking out my back window now…I am so grateful for the decorator who forced me to make my home look like “me, ” like my home….

11. I really love food.  Thank goodness I work out…!!! 

12. With that said, I might be really ready to work on my cookbook/food blog this summer J

13. I really love watching so many of my friends find love…or at least, something that “resembles” love.  Smooch smooch!!

14. Why is nasal spray so horrible?  It helps us breathe…isn’t that essential to life?

15. When you are told that you are hard to be in a relationship with…then you pause.

16. Hearing “I love you, mommy”…no words could ever sound better in my ears…

Happy New Year 2015!! A new year…a new word. 1.19.2015

Before I begin, let me just briefly address my last post.  It was an opinion.  This blog is my words, my thoughts, my reactions, my experiences.  I wanted to talk about a difficult subject (the notion of choosing happiness) through which I felt many people might find a connection.  What I found, however, was that many people thought I was reaching out, putting too much “out there,” asking for attention, and generally a person who was hurting far past a “bad day.”  If you are in my world, and you know me in real life...well, that’s all I can say about that.  If you have stumbled onto this blog outside of my world, I hope that my intention reached you in a way that may have made you think. 

The truth is…when you write, and you are putting your words into the world, you do expect a reaction…isn’t that, after all, why we communicate, read, write, paint, and simply interact and share with others?  Without any reaction in the world…then what’s the point?  Life is all about interactions and reactions… 

And now onto my post…

“There comes a day when you realize turning the page is the best feeling in the world because you realize there is so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on.” 

~Zayn Malik

Happy New Year!  Welcome 2015

It is a new year.  Last year, my word was REDO…and somewhere along the year, I felt like I wasn’t redoing, I was reverting. 

My five days of working out became 4 (sometimes 3 by September).   My plan to redo pieces of my house starting in February didn’t happen until September, and my basement still looks like the set of a Hoarders.  The thoughts and plans I made in my mind to move forward and “let go” were halted simply because I let nothing go…I don’t know how, or I didn’t see how. 

My goal of living life in the moment was probably the one thing I actually truly maintained.  I started napping when I was tired, leaving toys around the house, randomly cooking 4-5 things at a time, entertaining more on the spot, eating more hamburgers (probably not the best idea), having more mother/daughter dates (even the ones at home when I do her nails), taking the first family vacation, jumping in the pool for swim lessons with my daughter (even without perfect thighs), having more date nights with my hubby (I think we blew our budget on wine), deciding that I would scrap the lesson “plan,” and read a book with my class for an hour, playing with my daughter when she said, “Mommy, you wanna play wit me?  My wanna play wit you mommy.”  And in the middle of the mess of life…there was more laughter, much more laughter—the kind where you laugh until you have tears running down your face. 

So, as the year was winding down, I looked back at some of the messes of my life.  I did, in fact, hit a rough patch.  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me (but I was definitely avoiding whatever is was), but I knew I had to address it…begin to fix it.  Some of the pieces fell into place quickly, and some are still untwisting themselves.  Most of these winding roads…I kept to myself, as I often do.  I am usually “fine.”  So, I learned a valuable lesson this year…”fine” isn’t the best answer (even though I am still guilty of it), and I learned a lot about who is really and truly in my deepest darkest corner (the one where I hide). 

thank you…

So, after I began to slowly break through the fog, my focus was quickly shifted …the holidays were here!  I embraced them, I hosted Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and the big Buckeye/Bama game.  I had friends over, and I cooked and cooked.  I even finished a WHOLE book.  I didn’t even shop until December 21^st and 22^nd!  This was NOT me… Why?  Because I wasn’t a freak.  I wasn’t losing my shit over the TO DO list.  Something inside me began to shift.  Was I suddenly not “Michelle” anymore? 

No. 

But a new piece of me was emerging…and not the one you might expect to read about in the coming sentences:  

…a me that was TIRED …so TIRED of worrying about everyone else, about fixing friendships, and apologizing until my lips hurt from saying, “I’m sorry.”   I was tired of walking on eggshells, of over-reflecting every conversation, of over-indulging people, of trying to be this “person” for everyone.  Yes, it is true that I love to take care of people.  That has not changed, but taking care of someone doesn’t mean chasing after them over and over…when they aren’t chasing back.  I was tired of running and chasing…with no finish line in sight. 

I was rereading old journals recently, and I was tired just from reading my words.  Yet, I was empowered by reading my words…the “tired” made me realize that one of my greatest tools to the “messes” was right in front of me.   It wasn’t in all of the races and chases and pleading words…it was in the words I had written…in between the messes and the twisted ropes were the moments I want to remember the most in my life. 

 the day I got the call that I would actually graduate from OSU (by the hair of my chinny chin chin)

 the gratitude journal I started when I moved in with my best friend

  the day I met my husband (even though was “done” dating) 

 the day my best friend walked down the aisle 

 the day I walked down the aisle, and when we smashed cake all over each other

 the day I sat on a mountain in Colorado with two of my dearest friends and decided I really wanted to become a teacher

 the day my brother got married…I gave a speech and cried the whole time

 the many days that created the 3 musketeers

  the day we surprised my mom on her 60^th birthday

  the day my dad painted my bedroom with me (a beautiful Tiffany blue faux finish) and we ate meatloaf sandwiches on the front porch

  the days I held my best friend’s 2 daughters…and the day she held mine

  the day I was hired as a teacher

  the days spent with some of the finest (6) and most amazing friends and teachers (many more) I know

  the days spent on the patio and around my kitchen table with so many friends

  the days spent on a deck with a friend who always asks me “what’s next?”

  the days this past summer with a dear dear friend and both of our families (a moment we often wondered if it would happen)

  the days of cooking with wine pouring and music playing

  the day I saw two lines…I was pregnant

  the day Maris was born, and the look in my husband’s eyes—the baby was a girl…the happiest day of my whole life

~and I could go one and on….because all of those moments were in the journals…

~and…I don’t want to be stuck on a page.  I want to turn the page.

so, with that…my word for 2015 is simple:

Write.  Just Write.

Write.